I'll Write My Way Out
by AuthorandArtist13
Summary: When young Alexander Hamilton was shipped to New York, he was scarred with the memories from the devastating hurricane that hit his home in the Caribbean. Now, years later and living with the Washingtons, he still struggles to grasp how to deal with the trauma. But when a harmless boating turns into a near death experience, he's thrown headfirst into a river of coping and comfort.
1. Chapter 1

**I'll Write My Way Out**

 **A/N: Hey guys! This is my first Hamilton fic, and I'm pretty excited. (It also goes without saying that any constructive criticism would be awesome. Just keep it nice.) This little beauty will be full of lots of whump, angst, fluff, and general hurt/comfort along the way, so buckle up! I hope you enjoy it. :) (Trigger warnings for PTSD, anxiety, and drowning.)**

"C'mon, Alex, we're gonna be late!"

Lafayette's voice drifted up the stairs; Alex could practically hear him bouncing in anticipation. He, John, Hercules, and Laf were going fishing with Herc's dad's old boat, and Alex had spent the past 15 minutes trying to find a life vest somewhere in his cluttered closet. There was no way on earth he was going without one, not after…no, he wasn't supposed to think about that right now.

"Alex!"

"I'm coming, just a minute!" Alex called back. He tossed aside a couple old winter jackets and dug further into the mess. It was here, Martha had told him there was one in here somewhere….

"Alex, mon ami, I swear to God, if you don't get down here right now," Laf yelled again, tension lacing his voice. He absolutely hated being late, just the notion of not arriving early made him shudder. Alex rolled his eyes and shoved more clothes out of the closet, panic now tightening in his chest. What if it really wasn't here?

"Alexander, you are a complete—whoa." Laf stopped mid-way into the room, eyes widening at the explosion of clothes and shoes piling the floor. "What happened here? It is, how you say, a sty of pigs."

Alex looked up and rolled his eyes again. "A pigsty, Laf, and yes. It is. But I've got to find this life vest before we go." He turned back to the floor and started rifling through the piles. Laf knelt next to him and sorted with him for a moment, before finally sitting back and sighing.

"It's not here, Alex."

"No, Martha said it was in this closet, it's got to be-"

"Alex. It's obviously not here. Let's go." Laf pulled Alex to his feet with a grunt.

"No, I've got to find it," The panic was tightening around his chest again, like a metal band. If he didn't wear a life vest on that boat, and he fell in, or it tipped over, then he'd just sink, he'd thrash, and scream, but in the end…he couldn't swim. The thoughts were swirling inside him like a whirlpool. He couldn't swim. He would drown, like he almost did before, years ago, when he struggled and held on for dear life. The metal band was getting tighter, and tighter-

"Alex?"

Alex snapped back to reality. Laf was watching him, worry etched in his eyes.

"You okay there, mon ami? You seem…" he trailed off.

"No, no, I'm fine," Alex said. Laf gave him a suspicious look. He didn't believe him.

"We can get a different vest at Herc's, you know." he said. Relief washed over Alex. That's right, how could he forget about that? The metal band around his chest loosened slightly.

"Okay, yeah."

15 minutes later they were both climbing into the boat along with Hercules and John, with Alex triple-checking the clips keeping his life jacket strapped on.

"Little nervous, bro?" Hercules asked, giving him a playful look.

"I don't like water all that much." Alex said. Hercules looked confused for a second, until Laf shot him a look and comprehension dawned over his face.

"Uh…should we get going, then?" John asked, breaking the tension. Alex nodded and Herc started up the motor.

"Alright. Let's go!"

Alex gripped the edges of his seat so hard his knuckles turned white. The little boat sped up, the front tipping towards the sky as it splashed over the waves. Water sprayed their faces and Laf shrieked, laughing with John as they cheered for Herc to go faster. Herc obliged, grinning, until he saw Alex, his eyes shut tight against the pounding fear in his throat. John noticed and knelt beside him.

"Alex?"

Alex could feel someone pulling his hands into theirs. He jerked away for a moment, but relaxed when he opened his eyes to see John's, studying him concernedly.

"You okay there?"

No. He wasn't okay in the slightest. But John seemed to sense what he was thinking, and took a slow, deep breath. Alex caught the cue and mimicked him for a moment, feeling the air enter and exit his lungs more freely than before. John sat back and smiled encouragingly.

"There we go. You want to get off?"

"No," Alex replied. It was true, he didn't want to miss out on this with his friends. It was just… "Can we go a little slower, though?"

"On it," Herc called from the wheel. Alex offered a small smile and they set off again, this time with the boat going at a calmer, more steady pace. Alex took the moment to take in the scenery around him, still counting his breathing silently. It was…beautiful, to say the least. Almost peaceful. The afternoon sun glinted off the water, making ribbons of crystal light dance off it hypnotically. A few other boats petered around, some throwing out near invisible lines attached to colorful bobbers, waiting for a fish to dart out and snatch one up. Faint laughter echoed from a cabin along the shoreline, a few young women lounging on the beach. And the water…

Even being a thing of death, it seemed so alive. Splashing and streaming alongside the boat, rippling waves marking where a duck had just landed, shimmering trout flicking their tails just beneath the depths of the dark, murky weeds. If Alex looked closely he could just make out the sandy bottom in the shallower parts. He imagined how that wet, muddy sand would feel beneath his toes, how his feet would sink into it and splurch as he pulled them out. The water looked so cool, so refreshing against the hot sun beating down onto his back. It was, for the first time in years, almost tempting.

All sounds of his friends' chatter faded away into faint echoes as he let himself glide into another place…one of his days in the Caribbean before the hurricane, when he ran along the shoreline in nothing but an old pair of wet shorts. He collected seashells, then. Alex smiled at the memory. He had brought the best, prettiest ones to his mother, who hid her tear-stained face to smile at him and hold him close.

Alex stared down at the water over the edge of the little boat. It was so sleek, and cool. He wanted to dip his toes in it like he had as a child. Without thinking he leaned over the edge. Maybe he could run his fingers through it, feel its droplets caress his skin for just a moment. He leaned farther. The life jacket was getting in the way, it was too bulky. Perhaps if he just slipped it off, just for a brief moment, and then he'd strap it back on again. Yes, Alex thought. Just a few quick seconds so he could feel the rush of the water. It would feel so good. Slowly, almost disbelieving of what he had talked himself into, he unbuckled the clips on the lifejacket. Each one came undone with a pop and he slipped the foam off his shoulders, lying the vest on the boat floor.

He heard his name among his friends' voices but ignored it. They were probably teasing him about Eliza again anyways.

He peered over the boat's edge again and stretched. His fingertips were almost breaking the surface of the water now. He stretched farther, ignoring how the hard metal edge of the boat dug into his ribs. If he could just reach a little farther…

And then he felt it. His fingers dipped into the rippling water streaming past. The cold shocked him for a minute, but soon he relaxed, wiggling his fingers happily as the jets of water flowed in between them. This was so amazing, this little moment in time, just him and the water. All anxiety of death and doom long subsided, he laughed. This was incredible. Why had he been so nervous? It seemed like nothing could stop him from—

"Alex?"

Alex's head snapped to his right to see all three of his friends watching him with different stages of confusion and delightedness splayed over their faces.

"Alex, are you-?"

John was cut off as Alex's split second of distraction caused him to lean much too far over the boat's edge. He didn't have time to scream as his body was tipped over the boat, seemingly hovering in thin air for a split second. Ice-cold terror pierced his chest like a knife. Shit. Memories flashed back before his eyes, and then time unfroze itself and he was plummeting towards the water, head first.

It was like hitting solid ice.

It hurt, he could feel his head exploding from the inside, but before he could do anything to right himself water filled his nose and eyes. He swallowed a mouthful of water and choked, kicking and thrashing to reach the surface. He was going to die, he couldn't swim, he was going to drown. Right in front of his friends….

Panic gripped him like icy hands and he kicked harder. The hands only tightened around him. He kept fighting, tooth and nail, desperately trying to draw in breath despite the water flooding his mouth, trying to rip the hands off of him. They wouldn't budge. The faint light from the surface was taunting him, flickering slightly as it grew farther and farther away. He forced his limbs to move and willed himself to believe that he was growing closer, even though it seemed like miles away. He was growing tired… Adrenaline was being replaced by exhaustion pumping through his veins….And he knew his time was running short, he only had a few more seconds before the spots crowding his vision took over.

His arms and legs now felt like they were full of lead, and his lungs were burning for sweet oxygen. He knew he was losing this fight-it was a losing battle. His nose burned. Alex felt the darkness pulling him down, deeper into the murky depths below. It was terrifying, that darkness. Calling him like a siren's mournful song, dragging him ever so slowly, and yet so fast at the same time. The fist deep in Alex's stomach clenched tighter. I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory…

Realization hit him like another brick in the chest. There was no help down here, among the snaking weeds and fish. No one to rescue him. Acceptance came next, floated into his mind like a numb relieve from the panic. Maybe this was payback, a punishment or penance of some sorts, for surviving that hurricane all those years ago. Because Alex knew he shouldn't have survived that. His old friends should have. His neighbors should have. But not him, the scrawny, weak little kid that washed up in the streets of New York. If he had one regret, it was that he never got a chance to say goodbye….both times, then and now. But it was too late now…there was nothing to do…nowhere to go but down. His eyes slipped closed, allowing himself to drift away...

Maybe something so alive was that way because of all the lives it took.

 **A/N: Ahh, cliffhanger! (Don't worry, the next chapter will be up by next week.) Your feedback means a lot to me, so please review or PM me with a story prompt you'd like to see in future Ham fics! And thanks so much for reading. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! I am back, and I've brought a whole load of whump with me! Today's chapter is** ** _huge_** **, an in, the longest thing I've ever written to date.** ** _Sooo much_** **happens in this one, I considered splitting it into two separate chapters. But alas, I figured it'd be best to keep all the feels together. (Let me know how it worked out.) So, without further ado, let us go on to the angst!**

 **(Trigger warnings for drowning, PTSD, brief intrusive thoughts, anxiety/anxiety attacks, and hospitals.)**

* * *

Pain.

Exploding, glorious pain, like the crack of lighting just before it touches the sky. It was everywhere—Alex's head, his limbs, his chest. Oh god, his chest hurt. It burned as if flames were licking his lungs and throat and nose. And his head—millions of firecrackers going off all at once, blurring and flashing and causing any tiny thought to morph into unbearable pain. He could hear voices, too. They were frantic, panicked. Indistinguishable. Alex strained to make out words despite his splitting skull.

"—Oh my God."

"Is he going to be okay?"

 _"Oh my God."_

There was more after that, a rush of garbled syllables, but questions had suddenly flooded Alex's mind. Was he not dead? He was dead. Who were those voices? They sounded too familiar….

"—All my fault."

"It's not your fault, John, he fell in."

John. Alex knew that name. The name matched with a face and he startled slightly. That was John's voice…and the other one…the other one was Herc's. His friends were here? Then he wasn't dead. He became suddenly aware of the feeling of fresh oxygen rushing into his lungs, instead of dark, foggy water. A muddle of emotions coursed through him all at once. Relief, a flurry of confusion, and, at the very end, a tiny flicker of disappointment. It would have been so peaceful. A nice sort of end. But no, he told himself. No, somehow, if you really are alive, then you've got to push those feelings aside. You've got to do something.

He groaned slightly, without realizing it, and his friends' voices raised an octave.

"Alex!"

 _"Alex!"_

Something inside of him stirred at the sound of his name.

And then there was light. A bright, white light flooding his retinas and jamming itself into every empty pace in his corneas. He didn't realize his eyes were open until he saw the azure hues of sky materializing in front of him. For a moment all was still, and Alex wondered if he really was in another realm. The moment passed as a pair of arms were flung around his neck, a warm body pressing itself onto his shivering one. Alex was nearly smothered in a wave of thick curls, taking in their scent as rapid French was sobbed from on top of him.

"Alex, mon ami, je suis desole, je suis desole! Tu es en vie…" _I'm sorry, I'm sorry! You're alive…._

A pair of hands pulled the boy off of Alex. "Give him some space, Laf. I know." Herc reached down and grasped Alex's shoulders firmly. "Don't _ever_ fucking do that again." He said harshly, before smiling softly, relief flooding his eyes. His clothes and hair were sopping wet, dripping onto Alex's face. _How did that happen?_

Alex was so confused. He was alive, Laf was crying, Herc was angry? He did that? This wasn't right…why wasn't he in the water?

He didn't have time to ponder these questions, however, because a sudden, harsh sob pierced through him like a bullet. Alex looked to his left to see John, sobbing uncontrollably, his face screwed up in misery as he gasped out apologies. Alex felt a pang of remorse. He forced himself to sit up on his elbows despite the pain coursing through him, trying desperately to let his boyfriend know he was alright. Herc was holding John now, murmuring soothingly as a tear of his own slid down his cheek. Laf reached over and pushed Alex back down gently.

"No, no, Alex. Save your strength."

Alex tried to protest, tried to say _he_ was the one who should be sorry, that he was alright, but all that came out were a series of hacking coughs. They ripped through his lungs and shredded his throat until he was left gasping for air. He felt a hand on his shoulder and Laf helped him up this time, smiling worriedly through his tears. John broke free from Herc's grasp and wrapped his arms around Alex, holding him close. Alex tentatively hugged back, questions still swimming in his head, along with something else. He felt sick…spots were crowding his vision again…a jolt of panic leaped through his body, but before he could fight it, the spots overtook his vision and he was falling again.

* * *

He woke up for the second time that hour with a pounding headache. This time his memory cleared faster, and he scrambled to sit up. Two strong hands were holding him down, however, and soon John's face swam into view, lines drawn across his forehead in concern.

"Alex? Can you hear me?"

Alex nodded, immediately regretting it when a sudden wave of nausea made him roll over onto his stomach until he was pressing his face onto the bottom of the boat in agony. Another lurch and he was puking. For what seemed like hours he retched up murky, brown water, until finally he was left with nothing but a few weak, dry heaves. The pain and nausea remained. He heard voices muttering rapidly behind him, and then, before he knew what was happening, someone was scooping him up bridal style.

Hercules shushed the smaller boy's protests and settled into one of the hard, leather boat chairs, Alex curled into his lap. He started up the boat motor and took off, sparing one more glance towards the sickly boy, his face twisted in agony.

"Sorry, bro, we're gonna have to go fast for this one," he said, gunning it. Alex nodded wearily and shut his eyes, trying to block out the aching fear pounding in his temples.

* * *

Twenty minutes later they were bursting through the emergency room doors, Alex curled into Herc's chest feebly. John ran up to the receptionist's desk and explained the situation in such a rush that he had to go back and repeat himself. After the frazzled receptionist finally finished typing all the information into the computer, she handed John a massive stack of paperwork and he collapsed into one of the hard plastic chairs next to Laf and Herc. He thumbed through the papers, brow furrowed. It was all stuff he was supposed to fill out about Alex. He sighed and began checking boxes he thought might be right. He felt like he was taking a quiz, and Alex's life was on the line for the results. What happened if he checked a box wrong? John sighed and rubbed his temples. _This was all his fault, all of it_ ….he read the next question.

 _Check off any allergies of the patient._

"Laf," John said, nudging his friend in the ribs. "Does Alex have any allergies?"

"Uhh….not that I know of, mon ami. Why?"

"Paperwork." John turned back to the packet and sighed again. How much about his boyfriend did he really know?...

The wait in the dull waiting room was agonizing. John could hear cries from some patients and sniffling from others. The blank white walls were glaring back at him, with not so much as a child's drawing adorning them, and the TV, which was set permanently to the Weather Channel, had the volume set almost as low as possible. The only other sounds were the typing of the receptionist and Alex's ragged breathing.

John tried his hardest to ignore it. Every breath sounded painful, and they ripped through John's heart like a jagged knife. He put his head in his hands and tried to block everything out while the clock ticked by.

Five agonizing minutes later Alex's name was called and he was carried into the examination room. The doctor took the paperwork filled with John's messy handwriting with a frown.

"I-I don't know the answers to a lot of those…" John trailed off, motioning weakly to the pamphlet. The doctor nodded.

"Is there anyone you can contact who does?"

"Mama!" Lafayette cried. "I mean, Martha. Or George. They know all of his medical information."

One rushed phone call later, in which there was a lot of explaining and crying and Martha's panicked voice, they had all the correct paperwork filled out, with Martha and George on their way to the hospital. Alex, who had since lost consciousness, was rushed off to who knows where, leaving John, Laf, and Herc back in the waiting room. John was pacing miserably, Laf was clutching his hair and muttering in French, and Herc was staring at his hands, unmoving. Thoughts were swirling around in John's head like a typhoon.

 _This is all your fault, you hear me?_ All _of it. Why couldn't you just go_ _one boating without screwing things up? And now Alex is half-dead. He could be dead right now, and it's all your fault._

John sniffled softly, brushing away the tears trickling down his cheeks roughly. He didn't deserve to cry—Alex was the one in trouble, not him. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and looked up to see Laf, his eyes red and puffy.

 _Look at that. You did that._

"I-I'm so sorry." The whisper left John's mouth before he could stop it. Laf shook his head as tears welled up in his eyes again, leading John into a seat and grasping both of his hands with his own.

"No, mon ami. This is not your fault. You could not know this would happen." John looked away. _You're still the reason it did,_ the voice inside of him said.

"But…what if-?"

"I know. But they will take care of him here. He is, how you say, in good hands." Lafayette tried to offer a small smile. It fell flat. John shrugged his shoulders weakly in response, too tired to argue, and leaned against his friend. There was no point in trying to make small talk anymore. There was no point in doing anything, really, if Alex wasn't okay. John felt tears streaming down his face again and didn't bother to wipe them away. Waiting in the dark like this, with no information on his boyfriend, was torture. Did they just expect him to sit here and hope for an announcement? But he didn't exactly have a choice, did he? John sighed and listened to the impatient clacking of keys from the receptionist's desk.

He waited.

* * *

He hadn't even realized he had half-dozed off until the emergency room doors slid open and he heard a little gasp. George and Martha nearly ran in, the latter rushing towards the boys and scooping up Laf, embracing him tightly before moving to Herc, then John.

"Boys! Are you alright? Is Alex? Where is he?" At the mention of Alex's name John looked as if he were about to break. "Oh no...John, dear…What happened…?" Martha's voice became stiffer, as if preparing for the worst.

"Non, Mama, he is alive," Laf said slowly. "But he is not doing so, how you say, fantastic?"

"Oh dear…" Martha turned to George, who was still in his work clothes, and let out a shaky breath. George put a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you boys for taking care of him." He said earnestly. John could tell he was restraining himself from crying openly. He didn't want to scare Martha.

"Of course." John replied. _Take care of him? Ha! You're the one who almost killed him._ John grimaced at the voice and shook his head, as if trying to dispel it. George must have noticed because he pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and handed it to Laf, saying, "Here, Son. Why don't you and your friends get something to eat while we talk to the doctor?" Laf nodded and stood, John and Herc following. All the while the voice inside John's head was chanting.

 _All your fault. All your fault. He could be dead and it's all your fault._

* * *

Alex awoke to bright lights again. Only this time they weren't natural, warm, and heaven-like. They were intrusive, hot, and very much like how he imagined an interrogation room from hell to be lit. He tried to turn his head away, into his pillow, but as soon as he did he felt sharp pull from something in his nose. He tried to lift an arm to get it out, but his arms were so heavy…and they felt like they were being pinched.

Now that he thought about it, everything felt heavy. It was like there were boulders stacked on his chest, and hooks pulling him down further. Everything was painful and tired and lead-filled. This time there were no voices surrounding him, instead a steady, high-pitched beeping. It was incessant, to the point of annoyance, but also oddly comforting. It seemed to almost match his breaths.

His breaths. The events of the past couple hours washed over him once more like a tidal wave. He had fallen asleep on the speeding boat, in Herc's arms, so where was he now?

He forced his dry, itching eyes to look around. Everything here was white, pristine. The room was fairly small, with no windows. There were two hard, plastic chairs next to the bed he was laying in, and several of those large, beeping, whirring machines. A small end table was on the other side of the bed. Alex felt like he had been in one of these places before. The sharp smell of antiseptic reached his nose and it hit him.

He was in a hospital.

Alex looked down.

He was in hospital, and full of wires. Two IV's were in one arm, the other a bit bruised by what he assumed were blood tests. A pulse oximeter was over one finger, and little stickers were attached to his chest, attached to the beeping machines. And whatever was in his nose—he figured it was cannula of some sorts—had tubes wrapped around his head that were rubbing against his ears painfully. He felt like he was a lab rat in some sort of nasty experiment, the machines monitoring how he responded to his tortures…

It was all too much. Panic spiked in Alex's veins. He couldn't be here, he couldn't be here, he had to get out, get out, _get out—_

"Ah! You're awake." A soft voice startled Alex out of his panic. He looked up to see a short nurse with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail smiling at him. Alex felt something like recognition flit through him. _Where did he know that smile from?_ "You've been asleep for quite a while now, you know," the nurse was saying. "I bet you're thirsty?" as soon as she'd said it, Alex realized it was true—his throat felt like sandpaper.

"Y-yeah," he stuttered. "How did you know?" The nurse laughed softly.

"Just a hunch."

She slipped a straw into a foam cup of water and held it to Alex's lips. He drank greedily until the straw made that hollow, sucking sound meaning there were only a few drops of water left. He thanked her and she nodded, her warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. Alex knew those eyes. _Whose were they?_

"Well, I'm sure your family will be excited to know you're awake. Do you want me to call them?" the nurse asked as she fiddled with Alex's IV.

"Oh—um, yeah, sure." _George and Martha were here? Was anyone else with them?_

"Great. I'll let them know right away," the nurse said. "In the meantime, is there anything else I can get you?"

Alex shook his head no, then stopped. "Uh, actually…do I, uh, know you from anywhere? You just look familiar," he asked awkwardly. The nurse smiled again.

"Oh, you might. Well, you might know my daughters. You're in the same grade as Eliza, I think."

 _"Eliza?"_ Alex asked, jaw dropping. Of course he knew Eliza, she was one of his closest friends. Alex remembered how kind she had been to him when he first moved into the Washington's, how she'd introduced him to her sisters and invited him over for a movie night, the way she asked him how he was doing in a way so earnest he wanted to tell her the truth.

"Y-yeah," he stammered. "I know Eliza."

"I figured. She's mentioned an Alex a couple of times. But anyways, I'm her mother, Catherine Schuyler." She held out her hand, which Alex took, trying not to grimace as his IV pinched painfully. Catherine shot a look of pity his way. "Sorry about that. I might have put it in too fast."

"No, no, it's okay." Alex insisted, shaking his head. Catherine smiled once more. _How did she do that so much? It seems exhausting…_

"Alright. I'll go tell your family you're here, then." She patted Alex on the shoulder fondly and bustled out of the room. Alex sank back into his pillows with a sigh. So Eliza's mother was his nurse…that would make for interesting conversation later. _Hey, Eliza, guess what? I almost drowned on a fun boating with my friends, and when I got to the hospital, your mom helped me not die!_ He sighed again.

How did he end up like this? Everything hurt…his ribs, his head…the crook of his right arm. And whenever he closed his eyes, the image of that cold, murky water appeared in the back of his mind, as if it was stamped on the back of his eyelids. The harder he tried not to think about the reason he was lying in that bed, the more the images flit through his head. And the sensory overload, the combination of antiseptic smells, painfully bright walls, beeping machines, and pain coursing through his body, were getting to be too much for him. No, _no_ …the last thing he needed was to hyperventilate right before George and Martha—

 _"Alex!"_

Before Alex could think anymore the door to his room was flung open and Martha was hugging him a bit too tightly, a few stray tears slipping down her cheeks. As soon as she released him, George took her place, wrapping his large arms around his skinny form and holding him close. Alex could have sworn he was sniffling. When he, too, pulled away, Alex took the moment to spill out all the questions brewing in his mind.

"How did I get here? Where am I, exactly? What time is it? How am I not—" he stopped himself short before he could finish his sentence.

"Not dead?" Martha prompted. At Alex's nod she continued. "You're in a hospital in Virginia, sweetie. It's 5:25 in the afternoon. And…well, Gilbert and your friends filled us in on what happened after…" she paused, as if considering whether or not she should go into detail. "After you fell in. Hercules jumped in after you and pulled you out, dear. Then they rushed you here."

Alex's eyes widened. _Herc saved his life._ He knew he wasn't alive by pure accident, but putting a name to the reason he was still breathing made it that much more shocking. "Can I…where is everybody?"

"They're in the coffee shop." George replied. "I can go get them if you want."

"Yeah, thanks."

George stood and clapped Alex on the shoulder, his eyes locking with the younger boy's. That one look spoke volumes. _I'm so sorry, I love you, I don't know what to say, but son, I would trade places with you in a heartbeat._ Alex nodded, hoping his eyes said just as much, and George left the room. Martha beat out the silence brooding around the edges of their conversation with cheery small talk, but Alex could see the pain lurking behind her façade as she chatted on about her coworker's new dog. He piped up every once in a while with "mhm's" and "yeahs," not really paying attention. He needed to see his friends, to thank them and Herc, to let them know he was alright. But the minutes ticked by and by, each one _not_ bringing George and his friends through the door. Finally, after what felt like hours, the door opened carefully. Laf stepped in tentatively, eyes wide and worried, his adoptive father behind him.

 _"Mon ami…"_ he whispered. Alex raised a weary hand up and waved meekly, well aware of the fact that he probably looked a mess. That was all it seemed to take for Laf to break down. He burst into tears and ran forward, flinging his arms around Alex's neck with a choked sob. "Mon ami! I am so sorry, I never meant for this to happen…" he continued in a garble of French and English until George managed to calm him down.

"Laf, I'm okay, really," Alex said.

"Your grating throat tells me, how you say, bullshit." Laf shot back, smiling sheepishly at the glare George sent his way. Alex laughed for the first time in what felt like forever, making Laf smile for real. When he finally caught his breath, he looked around the room, confusion settling into his features.

"Where are John and Herc?" he asked, trying to peer around Laf to see if they, too, were lurking in the doorway. Laf looked away in embarrassment.

"Mon ami, John, uh…he feels, how you say, guilty, for what happened. He thinks it is all his fault." Lafayette sighed. "John, uh…he doesn't want to see you right now. Hercules is trying to help him out."

 _"What?"_ Alex's jaw dropped. Why wouldn't John want to see him? How could he think that all this was his fault? Hurt flooded Alex's veins and he felt hot tears welling up in his eyes. How could his boyfriend, his _boyfriend_ , of all people, choose not to see him, just when Alex needed him most? Alex fought back the tears, anger and betrayal crashing over him in a flurry of emotions. How was this _fair?_ John wasn't the one locked up in a hospital bed, nearly dead, attached to countless tubes and wires. John wasn't the one warding off panic attacks around every turn. _John_ wasn't the one who couldn't close his eyes, for fear of reliving that deep, merciless water.

"I'm so sorry, Alex," Martha was saying, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Alex had to fight the urge not to brush it off. "I'm sure he'll feel up to visiting you tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah, he'll visit me when he _feels_ like it," Alex spat back. "Easy for him, he's not the one half-dead!" he grimaced at the look on Martha's face when he'd said it. "I-I didn't mean…"

"No, it's okay, Alex," Martha said, regaining composure in a heartbeat. "It's hard, and John's got to work through it, just like you do." Alex nodded, even though the voice in his head was telling him that _he_ had it harder.

"I must go now, mon ami, I am so terribly sorry," Laf apologized. "I promised Mrs. Banks that I would help her run her stand at the farmers market today, and you know how she is." Alex forced a small chuckle. It was true, the elderly woman was extremely finicky when it came to being on time.

"It's okay." Alex said, hoping he sounded nonchalant. He watched as if from a different body as Laf, then Martha and George, hugged him goodbye, promising they'd tell Herc and John to stop in, too. Once the door had slipped shut behind them, Alex let the hot tears he'd been fighting back for so long slip down his cheeks. He sniffled, crying quietly to no one, until slowly, slowly, his medications allowed him to drift off to sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Gah! What have I done? Don't hate John (or me!) just yet, trust me! We gotta get inside his head a little more. Next chapter should explore what happened that afternoon on the boat more, too, as I didn't go too in-depth for this one. Not gonna lie, this chapter was a lot harder to write than I thought it was gonna be, especially since it's one of the longest things I've written in, like, ever. (I'm having a lot of fun doing it, though!) Also, Eliza's mom? Pretty sure she's gonna be the best nurse ever.**

 **Thanks a million to all who've reviewed so far, and if you haven't yet, than please do! I love hearing your guys' feedback, and it always makes my day. Let me know what you think about Catherine, any backstories or characters you'd like to see, etc. Thank y'all so much for reading, and I'll see you again in a week or two! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Oh my goodness, you guys, has it been forever or what?! Thank you all for being so patient for this one-my life's gotten a bit crazy lately, so writing this was put on the back burner for a while. I am** ** _back,_** **however, so let's get to it: we're kind of switching perspectives in this chapter, and going back to right after George gives John some money to get some food. I hope y'all enjoy!**

* * *

"One coffee, please. Two creams." John Laurens said to the hospital's café barista. He numbly held out the cash George had given him only a few moments before. She nodded, her dark curls bouncing as she punched his order into the cash register and slid the bill from his hand. John barely noticed as she did so, and it took a nudge from Hercules for him to put his hand down. His mind was too busy to notice, really—all those thoughts crammed in until there wasn't so much as a tiny gap in between each one. Yet, somehow, they still managed to crash into each other and jostle his mind until he felt sick. It was impossible to focus on just one.

The events of the last few hours were haunting him, steadily. There was no escaping from the splash of the water, his own scream as Alex fell, the gasping sounds of the younger boy's breaths as he struggled to take each one, as if he were fighting a constant battle, and yet losing the war. And every one of those things was his own fault. If only he hadn't helped pressure Alex to come on that boat ride, if only he hadn't distracted him, if only he was there to catch him on time. John squeezed his eyes shut against the thoughts. The voice hadn't bothered him for so long…until now.

 _Pathetic._

John squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

 _Disgusting._

He shook his head, hard.

 _Worthless._

 _"Stop!"_

He felt a strong hand clasp over his shoulder. John jumped and opened his eyes. He hadn't even realized he had yelled out. He groaned and covered his face with his hand. The curly-haired barista was watching him, concern evident in her eyes. He felt a smaller hand tug at his own and looked up to see Laf. The Frenchman brushed away a stray lock of John's unruly hair and tucked it behind his ear, leaning in close.

"Are you okay, _mon cher?_ " he whispered, his breath tickling John's ear lightly.

John nodded, his face burning. Lafayette patted his shoulder and pulled away with a sad smile. He caught Herc muttering something to the barista as she nodded, before flashing an unreadable smile at John and Laf.

"One coffee, two creams," she called over her shoulder. Another barista, her light brown hair tied back in a messy bun, sighed in a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"I heard them myself, Maria, no need to repeat it." Her voice, although annoyed and a bit sarcastic, seemed almost consistently quiet and soft.

The first barista, Maria, waved her hand in a dismissive wave. "Oh, come on, Smith. No need to be grumpy."

"Whatever." Smith, or whoever the second girl was, began making John's order as Hercules and Laf chimed in with theirs. Soon three steaming cups were slid over the counter towards them.

 _"Merci._ " Laf said with a weak smile. The second barista studied him carefully.

"Oh no, did something happen?" she asked softly, before shaking her head firmly. "No, of course something happened, you're at a hospital for God's sake." She paused again, studying each of the three boys' faces intently. "So what was it?"

John's heart sunk at the words. The last thing he wanted was to recount the details of his screw ups, of how his boyfriend nearly died because of him. He shook his head, but before he could change the subject Laf spoke up.

"It is our dear friend Alex. He got into an…accident on a boating with us. We are all heartbroken." A part of John scoffed. He was heartbroken, all right. He was more than heartbroken. It seemed as if every part of him had shattered.

"Oh," Maria was saying sympathetically. "That's terrible."

Hercules nodded. "Yeah. It's kinda got us all shaken up, to say the least." His voice was rough and scratchy as he cast a look towards John, who glanced away towards the floor quickly.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be up and running in no time flat," Maria said, her seemingly usual spunk overriding once more as she handed John his change. "In the meantime, why don't you sit with Abigail and I? We were just about to take our break anyways."

"Oh, no, we don't mean to—" John started, but Maria held up a hand.

"Nonsense. The tables in the break room are more quiet, anyways." She gestured a hand out to the fussing children and exhausted parents seated throughout the tiny café. "Come on." She pushed open the gate separating the employees' area from the customers and the three boys stepped in awkwardly. She and Abigail led them through the small work area and into a little room off to the side. It was small, with just enough room to fit a circular table and half a dozen chairs. An old, outdated TV hung in one corner on the wall, and a few of the classic "employee of the month" pictures were framed as well. A fridge and coffee maker were crammed alongside the wall next to a sink and a few cupboards.

John heard a snigger and turned. Hercules was laughing at one of the framed employee photos. It showed the second barista, Abigail, smiling at the camera serenely. That was not the problem, however. The real joke was the mustache and goatee scribbled over the glass frame in black sharpie.

"Ugh, _that."_ Abigail groaned. "Bozo here did it when I won employee of the month instead of her." She jabbed a thumb at Maria, who giggled.

"I got my salary docked for that one. So worth it." She joined Laf and Herc in their laughing. John and Abigail exchanged a look that said _"Finally—someone else who knows what it's like to deal with them, too."_

"They're so unruly." Abigail said, starting up the coffee maker. It gurgled ominously.

"I know, right?" John replied wearily. "Sometimes I'm surprised I haven't murdered one of them yet." Abigail gave a small laugh.

"Hey," John said, looking her over for the first time. "Aren't you the girl dating John Adams?"

"The one and only." Abigail replied with soft smile. "Don't tell me you're another one of his so-called rivals."

"No. My boyfriend is, though," John said. He felt his stomach twist in on itself as he did. He hadn't meant to mention Alexander. Waiting hurt enough as it was without having to talk about it.

"Oh? Well, good, I guess. Lord knows John's got enough as there is." Abigail said. John laughed weakly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm John Laurens, by the way," he said, extending his hand. He regretted it almost as soon as he did by the smile that spread across Abigail's face slowly. _Just couldn't keep those aristocratic impulses in, could you, kid? Man, you've got your father's instincts stamped all over you._ John locked his jaw at the voice, but couldn't give it any more thought as he felt a soft, cold hand slip into his.

"Abigail Smith. But you already knew that," she said. "It's nice to meet you, John Laurens. You don't meet many fellows with actual manners very often anymore." She grinned before being yanked out of John's grip by Maria.

"Maria Lewis. Very pleased to meet you." She shook his hand hard in mock eloquence. "Yes, I'm the chick who dated James Reynolds, and yes, I dumped his sorry ass two months ago. Abigail here helped with that."

"O-oh, I didn't even know—"

"Don't worry, she says that to everyone," Abigail cut in with a blush. She turned to Maria. "Maria, sweetie? Remember what we talked about?" The taller girl nodded with a sigh, her cheeks just barely tinted red.

"Yeah."

"What was it?"

"James doesn't define me," Maria muttered quietly. "He was an abusive prick who can never determine my worth."

"Perfect." Abigail said softly. She cupped Maria's face in her hands, kissing her nose lightly. "And don't you forget it."

John smiled. Abigail reminded him a lot of Eliza—quiet, kind, although a bit more shy. She seemed like someone you could trust. And the way she was acting around Maria…

"Hey, man, take a seat." Herc said. He and Laf were already sipping their coffees at the table—Laf's was an espresso, Herc's straight black. John pulled up a chair and sipped his now lukewarm coffee half-heartedly, listening as Maria and Laf kept up a constant stream of chatter. Meanwhile, his mind took the moment to greedily meander back into hell.

 _Stupid, arrogant, disgrace of a son…_

"Hey," Herc said, motioning towards the cups Abigail was pouring seemingly black, cold coffee into from the coffee pot. "Why aren't you guys just grabbing some from the front?"

"Can't," Maria replied. "Some dumb rule about employees drinking all the inventory or whatever." She grabbed one of the Styrofoam cups and sipped from it with a frown. "So we're stuck with this garbage."

"Keeps you awake though, that's for sure." Abigail chimed in, tearing open a tiny paper pack of sugar and dumping it in. Maria snorted.

"How could you not stay awake with that disgusting taste in your mouth?"

Abigail only rolled her eyes. "You know, a little sugar could fix that problem right up for you." She waved another packet in the other girl's face.

"No, no, I prefer to suffer through the bitterness," Maria responded, nose stuck in the air. "You're just too weak to handle it."

John smiled slightly as Abigail snorted and threatened to dump her cup over the other's head. It was fun watching their antics, and it almost made him forget about the real reason he was here. Before he knew it, the girls were suggesting they stay with them for dinner, and this time John didn't hesitate to agree. Besides, he thought, he was sure George and Martha would be glad to have them out of the way for a while. Soon the baristas were hanging a "Sorry, we're closed" sign at the front counter.

"Won't your boss be mad you're not working?" John asked nervously. "I mean, I don't want you guys to get in trouble or anything."

"Naw, no worries," Maria replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "She likes Abby's 'fantastic work ethic' so much that she won't mind. Here," she tossed the boys several wrapped sandwiches.

"Oh, _mon ami_ , this is too kind," Laf said, pushing his sandwich away. He pulled out his wallet. "Here, let me pay for these—"

"Oh my gosh, you guys, lighten up!"

"She's right," Abigail chimed in. "Seriously, Laf, it's fine."

"Non, non _,_ I insist—"

Laf was interrupted by Abigail's soft laughter. "See? I told you they have excellent manners!"

"No kidding," Maria replied, laughing just as hard. "But honestly, Laf? You need to relax. Our boss loves us—" Abigail coughed sharply. "— _Abby._ Our boss loves _Abby."_ That got all five of them to laugh.

"There," Abigail said once they had all caught their breath. She shoved the sandwich back in Laf's face. "We win. Now eat."

And they did. They ate, and laughed, and talked so much that their reason for coming completely slipped John's mind for an hour. Well, maybe not completely. There was still a tiny whisper in his head reminding him every time he smiled that he doesn't deserve to, that he should be in that hospital bed instead of Alex. But it was easier to push it away here.

Another hour passed.

* * *

"Oh, shoot, what time is it?" Hercules asked, glancing around for a clock.

"What happened to the watch I gave you?" Laf asked, his voice sounding a little hurt.

"Not waterproof, remember babe?" Understanding dawned over Laf's face and he nodded, blushing slightly.

"It's 5:30." Abigail chimed in. She swatted at Maria's feet, which were propped up on the table.

"Oh, man, we've been gone a while." John muttered.

"No problem, _mon ami,_ do not worry."

John nodded, but just then Abigail shot up out of her seat.

"What is it?" John asked, sitting up as well.

"I heard the customer bell ringing," Abigail replied, snatching her apron from a hook and tying it hastily. _"Arghh!"_ and she was out the door.

"I should probably go help her." Maria said, pulling her feet off the table. "You guys just sit tight and don't steal anything. Oh, who am I kidding, you're too polite for that anyways." She grinned. And then she, too, had disappeared.

It felt weird to be sitting in the employees' break room with no employees, but after only a minute Maria ducked her head back in the doorway.

"Uh, guys? There's a bald dude here asking for you?"

All three boys leapt to their feet.

 _"George?"_

 _"It must be about Alex!"_

* * *

 **A/N: Ahh! Okay, so Maria and Abigail (aka Abigail Adams) are just so, so much fun to write together! (And okay, technically she wasn't in the play, but she was one of the founding mothers, per se, and so all-around-amazing I had to include her.) Am I way too excited over adding new characters? Maybe. But we're just getting started. Thank you all so very much for being so patient for this chapter's release, and don't worry-the next one should be up sooner than this one was.**

 **If you did enjoy this chapter, please leave a review and let me know what you think! What's your opinion on Abigail and Maria, or John's insecurities? Thanks again for reading, and I'll see y'all next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello again, everyone! This chapter happens right after the cliffhanger of the last one, which I'll recap briefly for any of you who can't remember. If you can't tell already, this fic is going to be focusing on John's emotions and the like almost as much as Alex's. Guilt is one hell of a thing to work through, after all.**

 **Thank you all for joining me again, and happy reading!**

* * *

 _It felt weird to be sitting in the employees' break room with no employees, but after only a minute Maria ducked her head back in the doorway._

 _"Uh, guys? There's a bald dude here asking for you?"_

 _All three boys leapt to their feet._

 _"George?"_

 _"It must be about Alex!"_

* * *

Herc and Laf were out the door in a heartbeat. John was on his feet, but he stopped just before he reached them. What if it was _bad_ news? What if all of his worst fears were coming true?

"John? You coming, man?"

"Yeah, of course." He said, trying to push his fears aside. Surely if it was bad news, George wouldn't want to get anywhere near him? Surely he'd stay by Alex's side instead?

In the seconds it had taken him to muster up the courage to face George and his tidings, Laf had run up to him, darting around the counter and throwing his arms around the older man.

"Easy, Gilbert," George said with a small smile that didn't hide the worry lines etched across his face. "You just saw me a couple of hours ago." He hugged the boy back nonetheless, seemingly unfazed that his son had managed to get himself and his friends into the employees' only area. He let go of Laf and looked up at Hercules and John, who was standing farther back, unsure. George had looked like those few hours had done a number on him. His eyes were clouded over and serious, sadder than John had ever seen them, and his usually pristine work shirt was rumpled slightly. There was a haze around him, his usually grounding presence more unsure than normal, like he wasn't quite living in the moment. _You did that_ , the voice hissed in John's ear. _Only an absolute monster could do that to George._ _Just you wait, he'll get you back._ As Maria and Abigail ducked back into the break room to give them some privacy with a wave goodbye, George turned to the small group before him.

"Hercules, John!" George exclaimed, though the exuberance was lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. Herc, who was nearly taller than George himself, smiled.

"How's Alex doing? Any news?"

"Yes, actually. That's why I'm here." John's breath hitched at the words. _It's bad news. It's bad news, it's bad news._ "Alex just woke up." A flood of emotions poured through John's body. Alex was awake. He was awake, after all that had happened. He was okay. He was alive. John watched in relief and confusion as his friends talked rapidly with George as he explained the situation.

"After you boys left, they got him hooked up to a couple IV's, checked him out," John's relief evaporated and was replaced with terror and guilt.

"Near-drowning…took on too much water, mostly, but they're still waiting on the concussion diagnosis." John felt his breathing quicken. _No, no…_

"He'll need help with breathing for a couple of days until-until something happens. Not sure what, exactly." George inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself, and John winced internally. _How could you do this, you monster?_

"But I didn't just come for that. Alex, he's, uh-he's asking for you boys. He wants to see you."

John stepped back, his breath caught in his throat.

 _One minute, John was laughing, watching as Alex actually enjoyed himself near the water for the first time in forever. The next, there was a splash, and his giggly, grinning, beautiful boyfriend was gone. There was a scream, and it took John's aching throat to tell him that it was his. Everything started moving in slow motion after that, the details blurred by the raging panic in his mind. Hercules had ripped off his lifejacket, throwing his phone to the boat floor before plunging in after him, the boat motor shut off as soon as John had yelled. There was a horrible moment then; with two of the most treasured people in the world to him in peril, the third with frantic tears streaming down his cheeks. The pain was unbearable, the fear even worse. It flooded his veins and blocked all thought to his brain except for one: death. It wasn't until a full minute later that Hercules re-emerged, sputtering, with Alexander flung over his shoulder. Lips and fingers blue. Limp. Lifeless._

 _Dead._

"John? _John!"_

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and was met with Laf's worried face, Herc and George hovering behind him with similar expressions. That was weird. He hadn't remembered closing his eyes…the image of the blank water flashed through his mind again and he winced.

"John, _mon ami?"_ Laf put a finger under his chin and tilted it up to look him over. "Breathe. Ready? _Un, deux, trois…"_ he kept counting, exaggerating his own breaths to make it easier for John to copy him. After a moment, John could take in a breath without his lungs shuddering, and Laf cupped his cheek briefly with a sad smile before stepping back.

"What…?" John asked confusedly. Why had all conversation stopped? Why were they all staring at him like that?

"You blanked out on us there, man." Herc offered. John flushed. Had he really just made a scene like that?

"Not to worry, son," George said kindly. "The important thing is you're back, and Alexander is dying to see you." He realized his ironically poor choice of wording when John's eyes went wide involuntarily. "Oh, no, sorry—"

"What Papa means to say is that our little Alex is very much awake and has asked to see us," Laf said, coming to the rescue. "So come on, _mes amis!_ Let us go see our _petit lion!"_ he grabbed John's hand and tugged, but Laurens' feet remained firmly rooted to the spot. Laf tried again. _"Mon ami_ … _Alex…."_

John tried to get his feet to move, he really did, but the images were flashing through his mind uncontrollably again.

 _Smiling, laughing, water._

 _Splash._

 _Screaming, empty water._

"Can't," he croaked out. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"What? John, why?"

"I just..." but the few words John had managed to get out were too much for him. His breathing hitched again and he choked on his breath, turning away to hide his burning face. How was he supposed to explain to them that he was so selfish he couldn't get over his guilt for five minutes to see his boyfriend? That he was too weak to push away his irrational fears? Instead he stood, silent, eyes and face burning, as a low murmur of chatter echoed around him.

There was a pattering of feet, then silence.

* * *

"'Kay, John, you gotta look at me."

John started. He thought everyone had gone…instead he looked up to see Herc crouching slightly in front of him, so that the two boys were at eye level with each other. "Alright, there we go. Come on, let's go sit down and talk." Herc led John over to a corner table, sliding into the chair opposite him. John refused to meet his gaze. He was stupid, stupid, _weak_ , stupid—

"What's going on, man?" Hercules was watching him intently.

"I-I don't-" John was cut off as Herc reached over the tabletop and gently grasped his hand, pulling it to his chest.

"Can you feel that?" John nodded, Hercules' steady heartbeat emitting from the fabric. Heartbeat. Steady heartbeat. Gone. Water.

His own heart skipped another beat painfully.

"Hey, hey, take it easy, man," Herc was saying, noting the look of panic that had flashed through John's eyes again. "Your brain is playing tricks on you. You're okay. Do you know where you are?"

"Y-yeah." Boy, did he ever.

"Alright. Focus on this, okay?" Herc said, patting the hand resting over his chest. "Good…and now we're gonna take a breath…there we go…"

Slowly, slowly, John's heartbeat and breathing steadied out, and he felt comprehensible thoughts filtering through the layer of fear his brain had weaved together. His cheeks flushed.

"S-sorry."

"Whoa, man, you have nothing to be sorry for," Herc said, shaking his head as John twisted his freckled hands in his lap. "I just want to know what happened back there."

John bit his lip. He didn't necessarily want to discuss his patheticness with Herc, and yet his friend's silence and patient gaze prompted something inside him.

"I…I just can't bear to see him like that, after everything I've done."

"After everything you've done?" Herc's brow creased.

"Yeah," John said, nodding as if it were obvious. When Herc's confusion didn't diminish he continued. _"I'm_ the one who pressured him into coming on that boat ride. _I'm_ the one who distracted him. _I'm_ the reason he's lying in a hospital bed on damn life support." His voice cracked and he finally let the tears come, sobbing into his sleeve as all the shame and guilt and horror came rushing back to him. There was movement around him, and then an arm was pulling him close, into the soft fabric of Herc's flannel shirt. A small pinprick of conscience told him to stop messing his shirt up, to stop getting it damp from his sadness, but if Herc minded, he didn't show any sign of it. He just held the shaking, sobbing boy in his arms. After a few moments, John pulled back slightly and hiccuped.

"John," Hercules said softly. John looked up at him. "This is not your fault. This will _never_ be your fault. You know Laf and I pushed Alex to come along just as much, if not more, than you did. After all, this is Laf we're talking about." He gave a small smirk. "And Alex chose to take his damn lifejacket off. That is not your fault. _He_ chose to lean over the railing. _He_ chose to ignore his own safety."

"But the important thing is," he went on, "Is that he is going to be okay. He's alive, he's a little worse for wear, in all honesty, but he's okay." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Man, I'm pretty bad at these. Try not to get too offended, dude."

But John only smiled a little and rubbed away the last streaks of tears off his cheeks. "Honestly, you're pretty good. Better than the school counselors for sure." Herc chuckled a little at this, then tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

"So," he said casually. "Ready to go see Alex?"

John nodded.

"Let's get to it."

* * *

 **A/N: Ahh! I just absolutely love writing the Ham squad helping each other out, man. I feel like Herc doesn't get enough appreciation in some of the fics I've read, so I'm trying to create a nice sort of balance between all the characters. Planning out this stuff is complicated! I'll think I have the perfect layout, but then (surprise!) I completely forgot about that ~one guy~ who was supposed to make an appearance, lol. Anyways, thank you all so very much for reading, and please leave a review! Your feedback fuels my last functioning brain cell. XD (P.S. If the editing seems a little bit rough on this one, I apologize! I was rushing to finish before I had to get to class.)**

 **Next chapter should be up soon-ish, so I'll see you then! G'night, everybody!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi again! This chapter has quite a bit going on in it, with some visits from new guests and a possible reunion between two characters…and, of course, Mother Hen Laf. (I couldn't help myself.)**

 **Thank you all so very much for joining me once again, and I hope you enjoy! :D**

 **Trigger warnings: Vivid descriptions of nightmares, panic attacks.**

* * *

When Alexander awoke (man, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately), the first thing he saw were the many dull, white ceiling tiles meant for bored patients to count. The second thing was the silhouettes of two teenage boys standing in the doorway. The white light from the hallways fanned out around them, making them look almost like strange, ethereal beings. The first tall and muscular, his favorite worn beanie slipped over his head, and the second with frizzy hair pulled back into a ponytail that lined his face like a halo. Alex blinked a few times, sure he was just imagining those features—that it was really just another round of nurses there to poke and prod at him some more.

But then the second figure stepped tentatively forward, and Alex couldn't help the slow smile that crept across his face. Part of him reminded himself that he was still angry, but all feeling of resentment disintegrated as soon as those freckles came into view.

"Hey baby." John said, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. The look of guilt and longing in his eyes was so deep it was painful to see. He looked like a stray, kicked puppy.

"Hi." Alex's voice was still scratchy from disuse. He raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded, as if to say _you're here now, just come make out with me already._ Anything to get that pitiful look off John's face. There was a moment of awkward, silent tension, in which a million worried thoughts hung in the air. And then Hercules nudged John forward and Alex let out a joyous, startled laugh as he was suddenly swept up into John's fierce, loving embrace. He pressed his nose into Laurens' thick array of curls, inhaling the scent of his minty shampoo and feeling hot tears drip down his cheeks. _He missed him…he had missed him so damn much._ And now he was _here,_ and he was gripping Alex as if to hold all of his fractured pieces together. John was half-sobbing, half-laughing in his ear.

"I almost lost you," he whispered, clutching Alex's face in his shaking hands. He kissed the tip of his nose and pressed their foreheads together. "I almost lost you, and now I'm never leaving you again."

And then they were kissing, more passionately than they ever had before, their tears and choked sobs mixing together into a swirling flurry of relief and anguish. They had to break apart once to fix the bulky cannula, and again for Alex to cough harshly in the crook of his arm. But neither cared. They lay together in that confining hospital bed, two freezing bodies trying desperately to give the other warmth. John's tanned arms wrapped around Alex and held him with as much fierce gentleness as he could summon. That one moment seemed to last forever, until finally Alex broke away and traced John's jawline with his thumb.

"God, one kiss like that could've cured me in a heartbeat." He murmured. John laughed weakly, wiping his eyes as he whacked Alex on the shoulder.

"Should I be flattered?"

"Mm-hmm. I'd keep going, but I think I'll fall asleep. Heavy meds," he said, nodding at his IV's.

"Oh, good, are you two done?" Hercules asked, looking up from his phone. He smirked at the two boys, with their chapped lips and blushing cheeks. He turned to Alexander. "Hey, man. How are you?"

"Eh, been better," Alex replied. He suddenly startled, remembering something. "Oh, uh, hey…Martha told me you…? On the boat? I just—thank you. So much."

"Hey, man, I got you." Hercules said quietly, eyes softening as he gave a little smile. "Do that again, though, and you'll be in even worse shape once I'm through with you."

Alex laughed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, you and Martha both."

John sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing slightly, though he never took his eyes off Alex. Herc plopped down onto one of the hard chairs, and Alex started fiddling with the bed's control panel, sitting himself up. There was a brief moment of silence. All three of them had so much to say, but none of them knew exactly how to go about saying it. The pause was interrupted once again by Herc.

"How much longer are you in here?"

"Eh, couple more days? Kind of sucks," Alex pouted. "I mean, I don't want to hold anyone prisoner here to entertain me or anything, but, well…"

"Hospitals are just really boring in general?"

Alex nodded at John's suggestion. "Yeah."

"Well, we're definitely visiting every day," Herc offered.

"Yeah, babe. I can bring you your favorite books and stuff. And I've got a library card."

Alex's eyes lit up. "Really? You'd do that?" at John's nod he straightened up, ticking off a list of books on his fingers. "Well, right now I'm reading The Declaration, you know, a bunch of political stuff. And later I want to get the next Harry Potter book—I'm on the 5th, I think? Oh, and I've gotta get the last Hunger Games, too, and I was thinking about trying to get next year's book list for school, so I can get an early start, and—why are you guys laughing? What's so _funny?"_

"You, baby," John giggled. He gestured vaguely in Alex's general direction. "It's just cute how excited you get."

Alex shoved him in the shoulder, and glared pointedly at Herc. "'S not my fault I'm surrounded by non-literature enthusiasts."

This, however, only seemed to make John and Herc howl all the more, and so he gave up and waited for them to get a grip, instead choosing to think up of more books to add to his list. _If he emailed the school's principle now, he might be able to pull a few strings and get that advanced list…_

* * *

The next day John and Herc visited again, as promised. Laf had come much too early in the morning to be reasonable, refusing to leave his _petit lion_ for longer than absolutely necessary. He and Alex drilled away the time by listening to Laf's favorite French pop bands, and, for Laf, fussing over Alex as though he were three years old. By the time the other boys came around, Alex was itching to get his hands on a good book. He nearly jumped off the bed to get to his boyfriend. Alex trapped John in a kiss, snagging the overloaded book bag with one hand as he did so.

"Oh, _I_ see what you're excited about," John laughed as Alex broke away. Alex began rifling through the bag, pulling out his treasures. His eyes sparkled like a kid in a candy shop.

"Ah-ha!" he cried, pulling out the thickest book John had ever seen.

"Dude, what is _that?"_ Herc asked incredulously, eyeing the book up like it was from another planet. Alex hugged the volume close to his chest.

"War and Peace, thank you." He hissed as Laf reached over to grab it. _"Mine."_

Laf chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, _mon ami._ You go read your novels, and I shall steal Herc away for a quick break, hm?"

"Quick break my ass," John muttered underneath his breath. "They won't come up for air until we make them."

Laf shoved John's shoulder playfully and snagged Herc on his way out the door. Hercules gave a small salute, then followed along. As soon as the door shut, John was climbing up onto Alex's bed. He pulled a laptop out of his backpack and balanced it between them, the keys clicking softly as he pulled up Netflix and selected a show he knew Alex would love.

"Hey, babe," he said, nudging Alex in the shoulder. "Look at what I found."

Alex hummed in response, but didn't look up from his book. John tapped him again. "Alex…earth to Alexander?" Nothing. Sighing, John dug around his backpack for his last resort: chocolate. He pulled out a brand new, only slightly melted bar, and waved it temptingly across Alex's face. That got his attention. Alex snapped up the candy so fast he almost took out one of John's nails.

"Oh, thanks, baby!" he exclaimed. "Ooh, is this the kind with the cherries?"

"Mm-hmm." John took the thank-you kiss with a smile. His boyfriend was such a dork. "Okay, now that I have your attention, look at this documentary I found."

"Documentary?" Alex asked, mouth full of gourmet chocolate. He swallowed, closing his eyes at the heavenly taste. They didn't have food even close to this good in hospitals. "What about?"

"Not quite sure. Something about the American Revolution, though?" John said. He clicked play and looped an arm around Alex's thin shoulders, tucking him into his side. He ran a hand through the boy's half-in messy bun, undoing it so he could muss Alex's hair further. "You are in dire need of a decent shower, baby." Within half an hour Alex had fallen asleep.

* * *

John was just about to dig through his backpack for some snacks when Alex stirred next to him, muttering something underneath his breath as he turned over uncomfortably.

"Hey, baby," John whispered, helping untangle his IV line gently. "How're you doing?"

"Hmm…John." Alex hummed, brow furrowed. He reached out for something with one hand. His arm brushed against John's t-shirt and he latched on.

"What was that?" John asked. He ran a hand through his boyfriend's hair soothingly. Alex responded by burrowing deeper into John's side, pressing his face into his neck. He hummed again happily.

"Freckles…so many…"

John laughed and rolled his eyes.

* * *

 _"Alexander!"_

Alex winced at the high-pitched voice shrieking at him from the tablet in his lap. He grinned sheepishly at Peggy Schuyler, who looked as though she were about to crawl though the screen and strangle him with a hug.

"Hi, Peggy."

"Hi yourself! What did you _do?"_

"Fell off a boat."

Peggy groaned. "You are going to be the death of me, Hamilton. Sorry I'm not able to visit in person, by the way. If this whole art camp thing hadn't cost so damn much, I'd have ditched it and come over."

"Gee, thanks," Alex laughed. "It's alright, though. You shouldn't have to feel like you've got to drop everything and rush to my side or whatever."

"Ha! With a face like that, I may just have to."

"Hey, he's taken," Angelica teased from her spot perched on the bedrail. "From what I've heard, he and Laurens are doing _fine."_

"Angie!" Eliza cried. She giggled and swatted at her sister. "Be nice to the patient."

"Eh, he can take it."

"That's true, I probably can," Alex said. "But let's change the subject, yeah?"

"Ohh!" Peggy squealed. "Alex has a boyfriend!"

"Honestly, you two are adorable," Angie said. "I'm surprised you can manage to stay apart."

"While we're on the subject of boyfriends," Eliza cut in, giving Alex a look that said _don't worry, I got this_. "How about you tell us about yours, Ang?" There was a slightly mischievous, evil glint in her eye, like she was fully prepared to give her older sister a bit of a hard time. If Alex didn't know her to be an actual ray of sunshine, he'd be a little bit frightened. In fact, he still was.

"You've got a boyfriend?" Alex asked. He raised his eyebrows. When it came to dating, Angelica had pretty high standards. Any guy she went out with was clearly a (partial) gentleman. Peggy seemed just as shocked as he was.

"Wait, you have a _what_ now?" she squawked. "Man, you guys never tell me anything."

"He's not my boyfriend," Angelica sighed, rolling her eyes. "At least, not yet. I just got his number is all."

"Who is he?" Alexander pressed. Eliza and Angelica exchanged a slightly wary glance. "Really, who?" Eliza pressed her lips together and shrugged.

"Thomas Jefferson." Angelica said. She and Eliza were clearly already braced for what happened next.

"Thomas Jefferson?!" Alexander exclaimed. He nearly shot out of bed in a slightly comical rage, jaw to the floor. "You can do better than Thomas freaking _Jefferson!"_

"He can be a real gentleman when he's not around so-called enemies." Angelica snapped. Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Eliza placed a hand on his arm and shot him a knowing look.

"Let's keep all rivalries out of the picture for a while, yeah? Or I might regret letting this slip." she said softly, though there was a hint of annoyance in her voice. Alex sighed and nodded, earning him the warmest smile he'd ever seen from Eliza. "Thanks." She whispered.

"Can we get back to the fact that Angie practically has a boyfriend and you guys didn't even tell me?" Peggy exclaimed.

"I told you, I just got his number. That's not exactly couple material."

"Hey, I 'just got John's number' and a couple weeks later, bam. Make-out session." Alex teased. All four of them laughed.

"You are a player, Alexander Hamilton."

"Mm, still taken, miss Angelica Schuyler. Besides, you're already in phase one. Give it a couple weeks." He smirked as Angelica blushed and shoved him away.

"Didn't know you could give love advice." She remarked.

"Didn't know you'd admit to wanting to use it." Alex retorted.

"Get a room!" Peggy exclaimed. She and Eliza burst into a fit of giggles.

* * *

Alexander said goodbye to Peggy first _("Oh,_ shit _, watercolor class starts in two. I gotta go, man!"_ ), then Angelica and Eliza. They made him promise to text frequent updates every day, and he had to swear that he was going to visit them first thing after he was discharged. _("Second thing,"_ he had argued. _"First I'm getting myself a good cheeseburger.")_ After they'd gone, Alex had stayed smiling. It was nice chatting with all three of them at the same time. Like a flurry of banter and giggling and rolling eyes. It was refreshing and exhausting all the while. He hoped Catherine would let them visit again soon. Alex picked up another book and shook his head, still grinning as he began to read.

* * *

 _Wind._

 _Howling, whipping wind. Alex was standing on his old front porch in Nevis, watching the palm trees bend and snap around him. One cracked ahead of him, crashing into his neighbors' house._

 _Then, all hell._

 _All he can remember after that is being thrown headfirst into water. Water, everywhere, filled with shrapnel and debris. His hands scrambled for purchase, his lungs for air, but just as he would inhale, the waves would suck him down again, and he'd take in a thrashing gulp of saltwater. Another wave swallowed him whole and he tried to scream. He reached frantically for his mother. No, she wasn't here anymore, remember? You killed her. There was no hope here, only exhaustion and the wonder if fighting was truly worth it._

 _Another wave hit._

 _Now he was in more water, but murkier, and the salty taste was gone. He felt the strings of exhaustion tugging his heavy limbs downward like a marionette. Something was prickling in his chest, like regret…the surface was so far away now, it wouldn't be worth it to waste more energy. He could visit his mother soon, couldn't he…she was right there, right there reaching out to him with helpless, pleading eyes. Alex tried to get to her but the strings snapped back, jerking him away. His mother's eyes went dark, her skin flushed pale, then hot with a fever-rash. She hacked, and her shirt stained with blood before she dropped like a limp ragdoll. Alex gurgled out more mud from his water-soaked throat and started falling, falling…_

 _There was a splash, and someone else's scream. And then he did it all over again._

* * *

Alex awoke gasping for air, sitting straight up in bed. He thrashed with his pinching wires and sweat-soaked sheets for a moment, panting, as he struggled to take in his surroundings. Where was he, where— _oh._ Right.

He ran a bleary hand over his face and tried counting his breaths. _In, un, deux, trois…out, un, deux, trois_ …his hands were shaking from their spot holding his head in his lap. Now that he thought about it, his whole body was shaking. Hot tears were slipping down his face and gurgled in his throat as he tried to keep quiet, tried to make himself breathe. _In, un, deux, trois..._ It wasn't working.

There was a dip in his bed and the soft scent of cinnamon and rain as Martha's curvy figure appeared above him. She smiled sadly and brushed a tear off his cheek. "Oh, sweetheart…" she whispered, pushing back his hair. Alex didn't even notice—he barely registered her presence at all. Everything just _hurt_ …too many memories at once and he was paralyzed with fear, with disgust towards himself, and with such an intense sorrow that nothing could make a dent in it anymore. He was resigned to a cold, numb shell. A whimpering, helpless baby, who couldn't make a sound over his own silent shattering.

"Breathe, Alex. Just breathe…"

Martha was staring deep into his eyes, trying to make him focus on her. "Alex, honey," she said softly. "Come on. You've gotta breathe with me right now, okay? Alright, we're gonna take a nice, big gulp…there we go, good job…alright, now let it out, nice and slow…" Martha continued to exaggerate her breaths for him to copy, and slowly-painfully slowly-Alex began to breathe normally on his own. Martha gave him a minute, shooting off a text to George on her phone. After a moment, she spoke again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alex shook his head. That was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. "Okay," Martha was saying, guilt evident in her damp eyes. "I know you don't like a ton of physical contact, but I really want to give you a hug, Alex."

She said it like a question. Before Alex even knew that he was giving an answer, he nodded and crawled into her arms, choking out heaving sobs. With the warm tenderness only a mother can give, Martha was cradling his trembling body carefully. It was as though she was trying to soak up all his sadness for him. Gently rocking him back and forth, she ran her fingers through his hair. It reminded him of John. Alex latched onto the thought. Thinking about John was much better than this—if only his nightmares would feel the same.

"We're gonna make this better, Alex," Martha whispered. "I promise, we're going to make this better."

* * *

 **(Reeeeally long) A/N: Well, there's chapter number five! I hope the Lams reunion was to your satisfaction (XD), because I have been dying to write it ever since I first started chapter one. Oh, and the Schuyler sisters—we will be seeing more of them! I know their visit was a bit drabble-esque, but I felt like their first meeting would be as hectic as possible, considering who we're dealing with. (And I apologize if Eliza's and Martha's characterizations are a bit rough, as I'm still working out the kinks. Any constructive criticism here would be great!)**

 **Okay, I think that's all I've got, except for one thing: I want to point out that real-life hospital stays, as I'm sure many of you know, are not as easy/fluffy as the one I'm writing here. Often times, they can lead to further trauma, stress, etc. You might not have family or friends who can/will visit, or awesome nurses, or even a decent room. I'm purposely trying to make these chapters both realistic and a little bit idealistic, because the focus of this story is of Alex's past traumas, not ones he gains here. Anyways, just felt like I had to say that. *Shrugs.* I'd also like to apologize for completely forgetting trigger warnings the past few chapters! I'm setting reminders as we speak. Okay, next chapter will be up…soon-ish. I'll try to post pretty soon, but, you know. Life. Thank y'all so, so much for reading and g'night! :)**


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